


Remember your own death

by just_your_biology



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (vriska) - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Death, Eventually vrisrezi, I can’t believe I haven’t posted any homestuck before this, I wrote the first chapter of this a really long time ago and didn’t post it, POV Second Person, POV Vriska Serket, Set shortly after (Vriska) died- when she’s wandering in the desert, Trans Vriska Serket, because the ending was dark and I didn’t want to leave it there, but I still like it and want to write more, lesbian vriska serket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_your_biology/pseuds/just_your_biology
Summary: (Vriska) thinks about her past
Kudos: 2





	Remember your own death

When there is nothing left, you walk. When a vast and empty plane created by someone else’s subconscious mind is all that there is, you just keep going. You are alone, in every sense. The people you had made tenuous friendships with never really liked you, at least most of them didn’t, so you took the hint and fucked off. You wouldn’t be able to get back to them now even if you wanted to, which you don’t. You swear that you don’t, they were the ones who left you, really. They don’t want you and you don’t want them either. Right?

At some point you will reach something different, if you just keep walking for long enough. This place has too much in it to stay static forever, it’s too packed full with landscapes and ideas and memories. And you have all the time in the universe to reach it, whatever ‘it’ is. But for now, yellow and brown sand under your feet, slipping and settling to adjust to each step you take. Hazy pink and yellow sky above, the passage of time only marked by the movement of the clouds. Dunes and valley, sand and rocks and more sand. Step, step, step. Sun hot on your back. Red shoes on a plain canvas. Step, step, step, step, step.

You think back to before, despite your attempts not to. But out here it is _so_ boring, and your mind drifts to what it has been avoiding. You remember the game, the lands and battles and escapades. Not that it's a thing of the past, you’re still in the same strangling universe, but you aren’t playing anymore. You aren’t a player in anything anymore. Back then, back when things were happening… you were soooooooo eager to prove yourself, you always had to let everyone know that you were the best, that you were in control. That you were a clever girl, sassy and smart and ambitious and righteous, and in need of no one’s pity. It was a very obvious act, thinking back.

You remember the first time you died. The blood and anger and pain when she showed up to beat you into a pulp, all-powerful and sure, and finally, _finally_ angry. You remember the shock and fear that filled you, but also the pride, the overwhelming sense of rightness. The world came into focus, aligned into perfect sync when she slammed you into the ground and you knew that this was it. Your comeuppance, the narrative fulfilled. But then she was gone. The rush of sound turned to painful silence. She disappeared and left you bleeding out onto the pink stones, dying but not yet dead, and panic overtook you.

He rushed to your side, full of stuttering fear, and you were relieved because with him there it could all be over soon, but not over forever. Then he leaned in, not to pick you up and take you away, and you realized with dawning horror and revoltion that what he meant to do was _kiss _you. Your heart twisted violently in disgust and rage-- it was so, so wrong. The cruel irony of it, he had had his chance and not taken it so many fucking times. You don’t know if you would have laughed or screamed had you possessed the energy. In that moment, there was one simple kindness he could do you, and instead of allowing you this one scrap of dignity he finally acted on the sick perversion of romance that neither of you actually wanted. Pathetic. But not quite as pathetic as his cruelty after that.__

__You made him take you to your quest cocoon, because even if he figured out that was what he obviously needed to do, you doubted he could find where it was. It was too late to kiss you, far, far too late, but he could still do you the damned courtesy of killing you. Your body screamed as you reached the pod, blood blooming slick and hot across your chest, your arms, your face. You could feel the life slowly draining from you as he lay you on the stone slab, his own panic palpable as he witnessed your pain and only sat there whimpering, doing nothing to help. Dimly, you felt rather than saw the light streaming into the chamber, bouncing off its honey-colored walls. You wondered vaguely if that was how Terezi experienced things._ _

__You were not dead yet, not nearly close enough, but you knew there was no saving you. Your blood was pumping out of your body and you wondered how much longer you had to be in this pain. And the idiot page was still doing nothing, his mouth agape. You had no strength in your hands to write, even less to speak, but your mind was still sharp. You could make him do it, get it over with. But no, even you wouldn’t sink that low, just yet. He had to be the one to do it, that would be the right ending. You told him what he had to do, if he had any mercy or bravery at all in his sad little heart. You were in so much pain. You could feel the blood pumping out of you, hot then going cold on your skin, your organs screaming as they slowly lost function. You knew you could make it to the other side, you would die and then you would be strong and supernatural and for once whole, but all you could feel was the pain and the energy in his hands as he refused, over and over, to kill you._ _

__Your death was slow and bloody and agonizing. You had hoped he would have enough strength to do the kind thing and end you, to tell the story the right way. You refused to manipulate him to do it, but all that got you was the coward leaving you, flying away in his little red rocket, covered in his and your blood, crying tears he had no fucking right to. He left you to the agony and the knowledge that you could never trust others to do a damn thing for you, not even the ‘nice’ ones. You have to do it yourself._ _


End file.
